Northbound/Chapter Four
“Hold still!” Sonrin muttered. She was kneeling behind Piprin, tying a strip of wolf-fur around the younger girl’s head. The hunter apprentice’s den was lit warmly from outside by the fire burning in the middle of camp, and Piprin was going to her very first Gathering. At this moment, life couldn’t be better. “There, done,” the older apprentice said, rising to her feet. Piprin lifted a hand to pat at the wolf-fur headband proudly. Not only would it mark her out as WolfClan, but it was doing a nice job of keeping her thick black hair away from her face. She climbed to her feet as well and grinned at Sonrin. “Thank you!” she cheered. “I have to go. I have to find Arnik!” “Enjoy it!” Sonrin called after her as she fled out of the den. Arnik was waiting by the camp entrance with the rest of the group. Piprin dashed up to his side and skidded to a breathless halt. He glanced down at her, straightened her headband and then looked straight ahead again without a word of greeting. Piprin shrugged – she was too excited to care about Arnik’s unfriendliness tonight. Garen reached over and grabbed Piprin’s hand. When she looked at him he smiled brightly, his eyes alight with the same joy that Pip felt. And possibly the best thing about tonight? Daisyrin hadn’t been chosen to come! Pip wanted to dance with glee. At a signal from Eladar, the patrol swept out of the camp. They jogged through the forest at a steady trot that used little energy but was still faster than walking. The apprentices bunched together in the middle of the group, and hunters flanked the sides. From ahead and behind the whole patrol was guarded by warriors. Minren trotted close to Piprin as they neared the edge of the lake. She pointed out the deer-hide markers tied to the bushes as they passed the border, and pointed ahead to where the stone bridge was. “The four Clans built that bridge to the Gathering island many years ago,” she told Piprin. “It was an act they performed together to symbolise that from now on they’d gather and try to live in peace.” “Cool,” Piprin breathed as they trotted over the bridge, moving four abreast. She jumped down onto the island and stared, her mouth hanging open. There were so many people! Piprin had never seen this many people in one place together before, and they all looked so different, too! The tall, skinny, long-legged members of DeerClan, the pale-skinned RavenClan and the broad-shouldered, short-haired BoarClan people. Everyone was wearing a strip of Clan fur around their heads or wrists, and in the distance Piprin could see someone in a glossy black ravenfeather cloak – the RavenClan leader, she thought in awe. A short, stocky man stumped past her with a boar tusk hanging around his neck, and Eladar hailed him with a nod and a raised hand. “Who’s he?” Piprin asked Minren, staring at the ugly scar cutting across the man’s face from mouth to ear. “Drakeler,” the older apprentice whispered. “The BoarClan healer.” “What happened to his face?” The stocky man must have heard her, because he spun around, his mouth twisted in an angry snarl. “Mind your own business, rin,” he spat, and walked off. He had a limp, Piprin noticed. Minren patted the top of her head. “Some of the people here are really rude to apprentices,” she explained. “Don’t let it bother you, Pip.” Piprin nodded, but she was trembling. She slunk through some bushes and crept to a secluded place at the foot of a tree. She could see the Great Rock from here, with two of the four leaders standing atop it. As she watched, Eladar and the RavenClan leader scrambled up together, and then someone tapped Piprin’s shoulder from behind. “Hello,” a boy said, smiling at her and flashing sharp canines. “I’m Willrin of BoarClan. Who are you?” “Piprin,” Pip said shyly. “Of WolfClan.” Willrin nodded, and settled himself by her side. He was much older than her – almost big enough to be a warrior, she thought. He had a nice face, with a turned-up nose, freckles and blond hair. He pointed as the first leader stepped forward. “That’s Boldar,” he explained. “My leader.” “Cool,” Piprin whispered. “BoarClan is thriving this green-leaf,” Boldar said loudly, thrusting his chest forward. “We have plenty of prey and nothing for us could possibly go wrong.” Brave words, Piprin thought, and felt a vague sense of unrest. Boldar continued. “We have a new warrior this summer. Crissinik is here tonight as a full BoarClan warrior.” There was a smattering of applause. “Little else of importance has occurred in BoarClan territory this past month.” He dipped his head and stepped back, letting the man in the deerskin cloak step past him to speak. “His name’s Crowdar,” Willrin puffed in Pip’s ear. “DeerClan is also having a prey-rich summer,” the tall, thin man said. “We have two new apprentices at the Gathering here tonight – Sparrowrin and Wildren. Their mentors are Annik and Liontor.” This time the applause was louder, and Piprin got the sense that one or both mentors were well known among the Clans. “There has also been a new youngling born in DeerClan this past month. His name is Ravlyn, and both he and his mother Wylmar are doing well.” This time there were cheers. The birth of a new youngling was always something to celebrate, and Piprin felt a tingle of excitement as she wondered if the Clans had cheered for her like that. Crowdar stepped back and Eladar took his place. “He’s my leader!” Piprin told Willrin proudly. “WolfClan is thriving also,” the leader said formally. “We have a new hunter, Brightor, and three new apprentices.” Piprin held her breath. “Daisyrin isn’t here tonight, but Garen and Piprin are.” Willrin nudged her in the ribs and grinned when she looked up at him. Eladar turned towards the man in the ravenfeather cloak and drew a deep breath. Piprin wriggled with excitement. This is it! He’s going to challenge him about moving the border! But before Eladar could speak, the RavenClan leader forced his way to the front of the rock. There were outraged cries from the WolfClan warriors, and the leader held up his hands for quiet. Piprin knew his name. She’d heard others talking about him. This was Flashdar, only twenty-five summers old and yet leading his Clan. He was supposed to be incredibly clever. “RavenClan has an important announcement!” he cried now, his face stark and white under the moonlight. “Younglings have been going missing from our Clan. Three weeks ago we lost Sybbylrin, a new apprentice. Last week Thunderen, an apprentice the same age, vanished too, and just yesterday two younglings, Malkynlyn and Dawnlyn, both only three summers old, were snatched from the nursery!” The entire crowd of people fell silent. A faint wisp of cloud drifted over the moon and an eerie muttering rose around Pip. The young leader turned towards Boldar, his face twisted with rage. “We traced their footsteps to your border. We know you took them! BoarClan deserves to be slaughtered for its part in the kidnap of our younglings!” “How can you accuse us?!” Boldar protested. “BoarClan has young mouths of its own to feed without going searching for more!” “Then how do you explain the fact that your healer was caught snooping around our camp last moon?” Flashdar shouted. “How do you explain this?” He brandished a boar tusk in the air, the polished bone glinting dully in the moonlight. Outraged roars came from the other BoarClan members and Piprin clutched the tree bark and cowered. Surely the Gathering wouldn’t turn into a fight? Crowdar stepped forward now, his head raised high. “Boldar, these are serious accusations. Is there any proof that BoarClan wasn’t involved?” “Is there any proof that we were?” the leader challenged. “I think Flashdar has given us proof,” the DeerClan leader said quietly, and Eladar nodded gravely. “I – we – BoarClan would never do something like this!” Boldar spluttered. “Search our camp, if you will. You’ll find no trace of the missing younglings!” “We’ll search the camp! But we won’t find them,” Flashdar shouted. “Who knows what you barbarians did to them. You could have eaten them for all we know!” Crowdar looked grim. “You won’t get away with this, Boldar. None of your Clan will.” Piprin glanced behind her at Willrin’s face, drawn and pale, teeth clenched. Nothing about him looked guilty or angry – he just looked afraid. And suddenly she wondered what would happen if there were only three Clans around the lake.